The Past Is Real
by ROSSELLA1
Summary: Peace can only last so long. 300 years after Neo and Trinity die, the humans rebel and a new cycle of the Matrix begins again. But this time, there's a glitch. Thomas Anderson is remembering things...


Prologue

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own the Matrix or any of its characters. Oh, and this is my first Matrix fic so I'm open to any suggestions as to the characterization or just how I'm writing it. 

Thomas has always had a sense that he's done… well, _everything_ before. He'll walk past a dark haired woman on the street and feel an instant connection. Or, he'll walk past a man in a suit and feel an inexplicable sense of hatred.

Sometimes Thomas dreams of a city, both desolate and beautiful. Its people dressed in ragged clothing, expressions of hope and determination on their faces as they look at him. After one, particularly vivid dream, he asks his parents when they can go back to this place and (when they were sure he's not joking) they take him to a psychiatrist. The shrink brushes it off as an overactive imagination and Thomas knows better than to speak of these dreams again. But that doesn't mean they stop. And they only get stranger. He dreams of a spoon twisting by itself. He dreams of a room of screens and an old man sitting in front of him. He dreams of another man standing over him, his hand plunging into Thomas' stomach, a cold wet feeling spreading out inside him (for quite a long time in high school, Thomas wonders if this one means he's homosexual).

As Thomas (or Neo, as he now calls himself) grows older, the feelings start occurring more and more frequently. And the dreams blend with reality so that they become memories that he knows he shouldn't have. He sees a psychiatrist again and is told that he's under stress, he's got an overactive imagination, as long as he knows the memories aren't real it's fine.

And since he doesn't know what else to do, he just lives his life. He gets up in the morning, eats meals, goes to work, comes home, and tries to get to the bottom of what the elusive Matrix is. It continues like this up until he's twenty-nine. And then he sees him.

The day's been going normally so far. Neo went to work and is currently on his lunch break. He's walking to the O' the City for noodles and a black car pulls up to the curb across the street. It's more casually than out of curiosity that Neo glances at it. Though it obviously belongs to someone official, that's not exactly rare in the city. Still, he turns his head to watch the men get out of the car. And time stops. Three men in suits…but only the red haired one stands out. He knows him from somewhere… the man from his dreams…but it's more than that…it…The man turns as if sensing his gaze and they lock eyes and sunglasses. It's like a murder of crows is picking at his head.

All the memories and dreams flash in his mind. The club. Being unplugged. The Matrix. Finding out he's the One. And (most importantly) the feeling of violation as he and Smith became one.

When his vision clears again, he's kneeling on the concrete and people are cursing at him as they walk by. And Smith is still staring. But he's been hit too. Neo can feel it. The face is expressionless, but he hasn't moved in the last…what? hours? minutes? seconds? Hell, Neo doesn't know. He just relived a lifetime and for all he knows it could have lasted 80 years.

Shakily, Neo reaches towards the pole of a street sign and pulls himself up. And Smith frowns and takes a brief step forward, the traffic miraculously coming to a halt. Neo tenses, preparing to defend himself (although he's not sure he'd even be able to). And then one of the Agents next to Smith, turns, shoots a perplexed look at his colleague, and places a hand on Smith's shoulder. An expression of annoyance flitters across Smith's face but, after a moment, he gives a brief nod and turns to follow his fellow agents into a building.

Neo staggers back against the crowd and is shoved forward again. What to do? He's torn between getting the Hell out of there and following Smith. But nothing in his present life has prepared him for what to do in the case that he meets his Opposite. He's not even sure if he's awake or sane. But after much deliberation (after all, where else can he go?), he starts across the street.


End file.
